Don't Touch Me (But You Like It)
by pyupew
Summary: [Darkfic, contains Sexual Abuse and other triggering factors] Conan only wants to be Shinichi again. Only wants to be able to kiss Ran, love her, treat her like she deserves. However, she moves on, and he's stuck in a spidery web of self doubt and his suffocating decaying skin.
1. Books

Hey, so i know I have that other absolutely forgotten detective conan fic I need to do from years ago but here have this one. It's dark and deals with psychological manipulation and stuff like that. so please be careful? dont read shit you know will be triggering for you. There's no main couple, closest to it is Shinichi crushing on Ran but its mostly one sided and. well. he has other problems to deal with. POINT IS, its not the main focal point of this story. anyways, ill try to update as much as i can. no promises.

* * *

Conan was frankly sick of his situation.

He was sick of this body, sick of kiddy school, sick of lying, sick of hiding, he was just sick of being _Conan Edogawa_ and not _Shinichi Kudo_.

He was 12 already, _god_ , he couldn't fathom thinking a day were he'd be 20 and still ' _Conan'_ – he didn't want to imagine going up towards 30, 40 or 50 even. This whole charade of being a kid started _4 years ago_ , and he was just… so tired. So god damn tired.

He wanted this to be over already – he was a patient person but _this_ is something that no one couldn't soldier through without a bit of off days.

Though, Conan's "off days" have been a lot more frequent than normal… it has a lot to do with the fact that he's started a new school year, _6_ _th_ _grade – only one year away from junior high._ It gave him a harsh reality check of his current situation.

He's tried not to let it show too much but he isn't very good at hiding it, he's constantly moody and grumpy, especial when Ran isn't around. And Haibara's annoyed with him, the detective boys have a hard time uttering a word around him, and he can't even tolerate pretending to be a child half of the time.

He sighed, playing with a cheap white eraser in his hand as the teacher continued on with their lecture. The subject was currently grammar, his tuned out brain supplied him.

The teacher this year was… weird. Though the kids liked him, something about him sent Conan's detective instincts on full haywire, though he tried not to let it show too much… it wouldn't be the first time he mistakenly judged someone without any evidence and just pure instinct. That's a mistake he wouldn't wish to repeat.

It had nothing to do with look, however, Irie-sensei looks like a friendly grandpa who gives you too much money and makes you too much food. He looks around eighty with a bony thin build with a slightly slouched back. His hair is a frazzled gray mess that seems impossible to tame.

He looks anything _but_ threatening – it was just the way the man carried himself, the way the man eye's look, and sometimes the undertone of his words made Conan squint at the man.

Nevertheless, as a person of education the man did well – he seemed like a perfect lecturer for children due to his cheesy jokes and his genuine care for kids… which is primarily why Conan is sure he's just too paranoid.

"Hey, Conan."

Conan blinked, looking towards Ayumi who sat beside him, tilting his head to indicate her to go on.

"Want to go to the bookstore afterschool," she whispered quietly, smiling brightly, "Everyone else is coming, what about you?"

He looked at the other kids which stared at him with wide eyes, exception being Hiabara, "I think I'm going to skip this one out today, sorry guys."

"Oh come on!" Even whispering Genta found a way to be obnoxious. He lowered his voice when Ayumi glared at him, "You rarely go out with us anymore…"

Conan cringed, "Sorry guys, just not feeling up for it lately," He tried to muster up a good smile for them, "School's just been so tiring lately."

The kid's ate it up, "If you say so…," Ayumi whispered in slight solemn, putting her attention back to the teacher – the subject dropped.

* * *

Conan tried not to let the guilt over take him too much.

Recently he had increased his workload when it came to cases, it's what he primarily worked on in his free time, he stopped trying to focus on the useless cases Kogoro stumbled upon and decided to nitpick whichever one's he felt are more necessary to his situation.

He just didn't have enough time to worry about extra luggage. It was a little morally challenging, but he had to be selfish in this regard – or else he'd probably go insane.

He opened the door of the Kudo Mansion, feeling already comfortable and relieved in the confines of the house. He used to feel lonely and isolated when he lived here, but now he welcomed it – it helped him feel like himself again and he was desperate for that familiarity.

Conan made his way up to his old room, flopping onto his bed with a big sigh – he was away from everything, from the world, in his own space – he wished he had that again.

He rubbed at his face, he probably should get to work…

But was it really worth it at this point? His main motivation to go back to his old life was slipping from his fingers… he didn't have much drive or care at this point.

He cringed at himself, sighing as he got back up. Of course it was _worth_ it, images of Ran flashed – her smile, anger, her childish fears – it made him smile. More than anything… she was still his precious friend and the love of his life, despite the circumstances.

He forced himself up and got out the files he'd hidden away, tucked away in a secret compartment (specially made by Agasa), and sat on his floor – spreading paper across the shining wood.

He clicked his pen as he retraced the information he had so far, the organization was a tricky snake to catch but if you squinted at unsolved cases you can find what you're looking for.

Recently, however, Conan noticed that they've been rather inactive.

An inkling of familiar dread trickled down his spine, he's been through this thought process… but what if they'd become suspicious someone was tracing their tracks. That someone being him.

He hoped it was just coincidence, but as he looked at the last case possibly linked to the Black Organization, it only fueled his suspicion. They slowed down _right_ when Conan was actively being specific in his search.

Was it really that quickly noticeable? He had called a few times in Shinichi's voice at the police station, and had called witnesses of the cases… was that enough to send the Organizations alarm blaring?

He bit his lip, he should have been more careful… especially using a voice that is considered dead in the Orgs eyes.

Sighing he rubbed his face, already feeling a headache coming on. The organization is so _careful_ and well hidden – it's frustrating. At this point, Conan is tired and impatient. He's not sure how much more he can last in this body.

He's just so tired.

Blearily he stuffed the papers and folders back into the hidden compartment, ending his work early. No one said he didn't try; he's way too irritated and depressed to continue on with his usual work routine… might as well just stop before he spiraled down further.

It's so unlike him, giving up so early like this.

Shaking his head he leaves the manor, making sure the place was securely locked before walking in a leisure pace towards the Mouri Agency. His eyes squinting at the rays of the setting sun, which casted a glare over his fake oversized glasses.

Ran was used to him being out most of the day; at this point she just assumes he's out with the detective boys. But he hadn't, in a long time, done anything with them.

How long has it been? Possibly since they started the school year... he wasn't too sure.

He cringed, mainly at himself and his behavior. Conan was being a cold jerk to the kids, he knew that. He'll make it up to them tomorrow, take the kids out for ice cream.

Conans thoughts abruptly ended when he felt the shiver of eyes watching him.

Conan tensed; he slowed down his breathing and took in his surroundings with sharp blue eyes. He looked at the people who surrounded him. It's not too crowded, but there was enough people for him to feel uncertain if someone was watching him or not.

Nonetheless, he decided it was best to play it safe. With the possible threat of the Black Org looming over him – he couldn't afford chances.

He continued walking, but not towards the agency any longer.

If someone was following him, he definitely didn't want to lead them to the agency. He decided instead to go to a nearby store, somewhat less populated, but not empty where he'd be vulnerable to being ambushed.

He spotted a bookstore, which met the requirements of his needs, and casually strode towards it. The door ringed when he opened it and he was met with the familiar scent of books.

It would have been comforting, if his senses weren't on high alert, taking in every single detail surrounding him – calculating his next move, his next step.

Conan made his way to the kids section, which was practically displayed in one of the first rows (It was a marketing practice, he side-noted.) He made a show of browsing the section of books, but side eyed the front door in reality.

He made a bet that whoever was following him, would either wait for him outside or follow him in – which could work both in his favor.

If they waited outside for him? He'll leave from the back. He's familiar with this bookstore (Fortunately) and he remembered plenty of times walking past the back exit – he was sure it was more for employees or emergencies, but he should be able to sneak out without notice.

If on the other hand they followed him inside, he could use the same trick. He'd just have to be quicker about it. But he'll have an added bonus of seeing the face of whoever was following him. Even if there's a possibility they have a disguise on – it was better than nothing.

The ringing of the door opening made him whip his head towards the door and he did a double take at who it was.

There, greeting the store clerk with a friendly wide smile and easy wave, was his teacher.

"Irie-sensei!"

The teacher blinked at him, his eyes registering before he slowly smiled, "Conan-kun!" He limped towards the other (Conan isn't sure _how_ he's still standing sometimes), "What a pleasure to see you."

Conan smiled, a little awkwardly, taking a glance behind the teacher – perhaps whoever followed him backed off for now due to his sudden acquaintance.

"You too," he started, forcing himself to sound chipper, "I came here to grab a quick book!"

Irie-sensei smiled, seemingly pleased his student is enjoying his free time reading, "Excellent, do you need help getting one? I have a few I could recommend."

Conan nodded with enthusiasm, but felt himself already feel worn by this predicament, "That would be great!"

The teacher nodded and motioned for Conan to follow him, which he obediently did, towards the children books section, "I heard you like detectives," he stated, grabbing a couple of books off the shelf and handing a total of 3 to Conan, "I'm sure you'll love these."

Conan blinked at Irie-sensei and at the books, "How do you know that?" He's never mentioned it much in class – mostly because he hasn't discussed anything detective related with the kids.

Irie-sensei smiled, wide and sincere, "I asked your past teacher."

"Kobayashi-sensei?"

He nodded, "I wanted to make sure I knew more about my students."

Its… not everyday you meet a teacher this serious with their work. In a way it was refreshing, like the world isn't so bad after all.

Conan looked down at the books in his hands, his heart warming further at the sight of two detective mice on the cover with stereotypical Sherlock Holmes attire. The title _Basil of Bakers Field_ automatically came to his head – when he was a kid he's read these series religiously before he moved to the more adult stuff.

It held a nostalgia he could never forget and he appreciated Irie-sensei for this. Because he had felt down, and just knowing there's still good people and good things is just _nice_ with his line of work.

"Thank you, Irie-sensei," he smiled at the teacher, a full sincere smile.

Irie-sensei smiled back, wide, causing his wrinkles to become more prominent. His eyes twinkled with happiness, "Anytime, Conan-kun."

Conan thinks he can handle another year if a man like this existed.


	2. Loss

dood srry this took so long, i had trouble coming up w/ what to write. im still not satisfied w/ this chapter but i cant work on it anymore, im burned out.

* * *

Conan loves puzzles, he loves it when everything slides together perfectly to complete a whole distinguishable picture. It's a satisfying feeling when he just _knows_ how something works, how something happened and how someone became who they are.

So he feels himself alight with giddiness, _satisfaction_ , as he has one clue closer to the Black Organization. Honestly, it wasn't much; he definitely has a long way to go. But _weeks_ of frustration and paper crumbling brought him this new slot of information, it was better than nothing. It was one more piece to a complex wide puzzle.

He flopped down on his bed with a sigh, his 12 year old muscles felt way too sore than they should be and his eyes felt tired and droopy from hours of no blinking, reading, analyzing, drinking in every article for evidence.

It seems once Conan backed off from investigating for a week, the Organization deemed it safe enough to continue with their antiques – which he had dearly hoped would happen.

Either way, once you know the Orgs habits and patterns, it becomes quite simple to track them. The Org specializes in getting rid of risks and enemies with assassination while covering it up with either an accident or a person.

However, that doesn't make things easy peasy. Obviously that'd mean he'd have to analyze _every_ case that fits that criteria to see if it was tampered with.

No one has the time or patience to scoundrel through 90% of Japans case files, which brings one last characteristic of the Black Organization.

It's rather continues behavior of using fire or explosives to hide their evidence.

You'd think an elusive underground company wouldn't use such a flamboyant way of hiding their crimes and while Conan would like to go into depth of how _that_ might not be the greatest strategy – he's just going grateful about this fact.

Because recently the Organization has been very active in getting rid of areas where big amounts of illegal drugs were being produced in a very loud and fast approach.

It was a little weird and somewhat alarming because the Org likes to stay on the down low when it comes to their crimes, they don't _like_ grabbing the media's attention too much.

Which made him second guess if it was even _them_ but he had reviewed the type of bomb they thought was used – advanced, not something they heard of – and had went and done some field investigating at one of the sites they'd decided to implode. He'd found specialize designed bullets that weren't caught up on the explosion after some digging – it was definitely them.

While he isn't sure of what the reason is, it is _something_. A lot more than what he had these last few weeks. With such information he had even the potential to find out where they might strike next.

However, that isn't quite enough, is it? He'll need a plan first. His next goal should be to obtain the information the Organization is trying to hide.

And… Conan has a time limit and he doesn't even know _how_ long. How long will the Organization keep their noses in illegal drug reproduction? If he acts too late, he has to start all over again.

Rubbing his head, he sighed, staring listlessly at the ceiling.

If only things were simple, but such a thing wasn't going to hold him back – he _was_ going to get something out of this. He _has_ to. No matter how little or big the outcome will be.

* * *

"Conan, you're late."

Conan flinched, looking up timidly at Rans scorching gaze.

"Sorry, Ran-neechan," he looked down, trying his best to look guilty, in a way that would melt Ran's heart.

He tried not to think about how manipulating that was.

As predicted, her voice came out softer, "At least call, ok?" She sighed with defeat, "You get into so much trouble; I get worried sick for you."

He twiddled with his thumbs while looking up, smiling sincerely at Ran, "You're right, I'll do that. I'm sorry for making you worry."

Ran smiled, soft and warm – Conan's heart fluttered at the sight – "Good, now get the table ready, Dad will be home soon."

Conan did as told, getting the plates and utensils from the kitchen in a neat stack and carrying it out to the table. He aligned it without thinking about much, the task so routine to him at this point, as he set up 3 rice bowls, plates, chopsticks and little saucers.

His stomach absently groaned in protest when his nose caught the scent of Ran's cooking. Right, he had only eaten a bit of breakfast today – his body was not happy with him right now.

On top of that he was rather tired, he slaved his mind over case after case to the point where his brain felt a bit fuzzy.

He glanced at the clock slightly dizzy, his mind fogging with old memories of Ran getting upset at him, as Shinichi, whenever he'd forget to take care of himself. Unconsciously, he smiled fondly at the memory.

"Conan," Ran called from the kitchen, startling him from his thoughts, "Can you help me?"

"Okay!" he called back probably a bit too quick and stumbled passed Ran who only quirked an amused eyebrow at his sudden clumsiness.

"Get the other tray, please."

Nodding, he got said tray from the counter, feeling a mix of dread and enjoyment that he can _reach_ the damn thing. He was growing… the thought made his fists clench tighter around the tray handles.

He couldn't spend another year in this body, he wants to go back. Shinichi just wants to be himself.

Something must have shown on his face while he was putting the tray on the dinner table because Ran tapped his shoulder with a concerned smile.

"Is something on your mind?"

Conan automatically faked a smile, "Just thinking about school," he lied without flinching, the act so fluid and easy it made him sick

Ran's eyes sparkled, causing Conan's heart to leap, "Oh? How's school been?" She asked while casually serving his empty plate with food.

"It's okay," he smiled sheepishly, "Our teachers nice, the work's okay."

She smiled fondly, listening with care. She cared so much for him, for _Conan_ – a fake kid he made up – he choked with guilt, his gaze drifting down at his plate. The idea of looking at Ran's face made his stomach quiver unpleasantly.

When had spending time with Ran start to feel so _awful_.

"Dad's late," she huffed, oblivious to Conan's inner turmoil as she glared heatedly at the clock, "Whatever, let's just eat without him."

Conan could only sheepishly smile as he picked up his chopsticks, wondering what was taking the old man so long this time – beer, gambling, woman, such endless possibilities.

He glanced at Ran from the corner of his eye, she seemed a lot more peeved than normal at Kogoro's antiques and Conan couldn't exactly blame her. Kogoro's outings have been quite frequent lately, Conan isn't sure if there's been a day where the man was _sober_.

And being drunk or hungover 24/7 isn't a practiced worth ethic, so money has been a little tight lately. While Conan's "parents" are helping a lot with the situation, it's still not quite enough to fully support them financially.

"I can't believe father is being like this," she grumbled, trying to be angry, but her eyes _screamed_ concerned, "Maybe I shouldn't be surprised but… he at least has some decency, right?"

Conan paused, staring at his chopsticks. She's not wrong, while Kogoro isn't the most responsible person, he _is_ a caring father… he wouldn't be the type to leave Ran to fend for herself.

While it may pain him a little, he'll give the man the benefit of the doubt, "I don't think it excuses his behavior but," he poked at his fish, "Maybe he's going through something?"

"But what would it be?"

Conan shrugged, looking up at Ran, "I don't know, but you should talk to him."

She looked unsure, "Do you think he'd tell me?"

Conan smiled sincerely, "Of course he will, if it's you."

Ran paused, staring at Conan as she seemed to think about his words, then she smiled – soft, sheepish, a little insecure but it held _trust_.

"Thank you, Conan-kun," She put down her chopsticks, staring right into Conan's eyes as she analyzed his face – Conan merely blinked in confusion.

"Is something wrong?"

Ran shook her head, "No," She smiled gently at him – it was so filled with love it caught Conan off guard, "I wanted to… thank you."

"For what?"

"For the other night," she whispered, looking down at her lap, "And I want to apologize, I didn't want you to see me cry like that…"

"Oh," Conan clenched his chopsticks, "That… don't worry about it Ran-neechan," he forced a smile, "We all have our days, its okay."

She shook her head again, "You're too sweet Conan-kun," she looked up at him, her smile and eyes so soft and gentle as she regarded him fully, "Honestly, thank you so much… your advice that day really helped me."

His heart plummeted, his smile felt so strained against his face – he wasn't sure if it looked normal, "Of course, Ran-neechan."

She put a hand over his that laid rest on the dinner table, he looked up at her, seeing such _trust_ in her eyes for **him** , "Always remember, Conan-kun, if you ever need anything – I'll always be here for you."

He nearly closed his eyes in shame, but instead he forced a smile – full of guilt and loss, "Okay."

* * *

Weeks ago, he'd woken up to an indistinguishable noise. Confused, he patted softly downstairs to the office door, seeing the lights on – a little suspicious that it might be a thief, he put his ear to the door, straining to hear the source of the noise.

First, he heard a hiccup followed by sobs and sniffles – which Conan immediately recognizes (so uncomfortably familiar) – and his heart shuttered painfully.

His heart only broke further when he peaked through the door, Ran was on the couch – tears spilling over rosy cheeks, her eyes puffy and red, her shaky hands clutching a tissue for dear life as her body shuttered with each soft sob.

He opened the door fully which alarmingly still didn't alert her of his presence, being so caught up in her inner turmoil, "Ran-neechan?"

She looked up, processing, realizing, before she hurriedly wiped away her tears – she tried to figure out how to smile as she regarded Conan, "C-Conan-kun…"

He clenched his fists, feeling waves of worry wash over him, "What's wrong?"

Ran's broken smile could only remain for one more second before it fell apart, her eyes solemn, sad, "It's…," she paused, her face filling with embarrassed shame, "It's Shinichi."

Conan wanted to cry, of course it was his fault, "Shinichi-niichan?"

"It's stupid isn't it?" She laughed, but it held no humor, "Crying over that idiot," She paused, as more tears slipped, closing her eyes as she tried to calm down.

"Ran…"

"I'm sorry you had to see me like this Conan-kun," her voice hitched and she smiled with a little more success, "It's okay, just please go to bed, I'll be fine."

Conan shook his head, walking towards Ran, "No, I can't do that," he stared at her hands, shaking and tightly clenching the tissue before hesitantly putting a noticeably small hand on it, "Please tell me what's wrong, Ran-neechan, I won't be able to go back to sleep like this."

She stared at his hand before looking up at Conan, her eyebrows furrowing before she took a deep shakey breath, "I guess.. I guess I'm just tired."

"Tired?"

"I'm tired off… being left in the dark," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly as she tried to hold back a sob, "I just don't… feel like I know Shinichi anymore. Does he think I don't notice how much he dances around topics? How much he lies to me? After all these years does he think he can trick me like that and expect me not to realize?"

"I thought… I knew him. But I'm not sure if… this is the same Shinichi I knew… and loved."

Conan looked down at the floor, unable to force himself to witness Ran's defeated expression. He's an idiot… of course she'd notice… how could he think any differently?

He tried to protect her from keeping her in the dark but… it only hurts her.

"What am I suppose to believe?" she continues.

Conan closes his eyes, _its better than her being dead._

"Is it…," Ran breathed in, "Is it my fault? Did I do something to make him run away?"

Conan clenches his teeth, "No… no, of course not."

He makes himself look at Ran who merely looks at him with her sad droopy eyes, her blue eyes so lost and confused.

She can never know the truth, he does this to protect her, he'll do anything to keep her safe, "I know.. I know Shinichi is special to you," he pauses, his mouth feels dry and his heart is beating with anxiety, "But if it causes you this much pain… I don't think it's worth it."

"What do you mean…?"

Conan looks at Ran one more time, her soft long hair, her face so open with emotions – he loved that about her. In his line of work Conan can see the darkness in peoples hearts, but when he see's Ran – she doesn't hide herself, she doesn't _hide_ the worst parts of herself.

He loves her so much.

"What I'm saying is, I think it's time to let Shinichi-niichan go."

"I don't…"

He clutches Ran's hand tight, to reassure her (and himself), he opens his mouth – feeling regret at his words, wanting to pull back, he didn't want to let go, "Ran-neechan, he moved on without you," his words were stern and he can see the pain it caused Ran, "He isn't worth it," he gulped, his insides screaming at him to stop, "It's time to find someone else."

He gulped, as he watched Ran's wide eyes look down, her shoulders – her whole posture just _sags_ – like weight was release off her shoulders, her gaze softens and her face is the very definition of _acceptance._

And god did it hurt, but when Ran looked up at him, she smiled – a genuine stress free smile – he would say that to her again and again if it meant seeing that smile again.

He'd do anything for her.

Even if it meant stomping on his own heart.


End file.
